


we ain't on no government list

by blythely



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, M/M, cleverly not songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:23:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blythely/pseuds/blythely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theo balanced the chocolate HobNob daintily between his fingers. He looked up at Blaise, waiting for the nod that meant yes; the mess caused by the ballsed-up Apparition of three drunk witches on a hen night in Dublin was gone now; Theo could Obliviate today's potential Muggle-Wizarding PR disaster; and they could get back in plenty of time for reservations at Bletchleys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we ain't on no government list

The consequences of immolating his letter from the Truth and Reconciliation Adjudicator seemed to pile up on the negative side, so Blaise laid it on his lap and sighed loudly.

Sighing or no, the door to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, otherwise known as Division Six, still did not open.

"Time?"

Theodore looked up from flicking through a magazine (Sorted!). "About two minutes after you last asked. Calm down--"

The door opened. The four other people in the room besides Blaise and Theo stood up and brushed nervously at their robes.

Theo marked his page carefully.

Blaise crossed his ankles.

"Good afternoon. Do you have any idea why you're here?" Tall man, comfortable around the middle, shade of red hair that Blaise was quite allergic to and--oh, fuck.

Arthur Weasley beamed jovially around the room.

 

* * *

 

"Oh dear god," moaned Blaise.

"We weren't _that_ involved!" Theo protested.

"Working with Muggles poses unique and exciting challenges," Weasley continued, giving Blaise and Theo a very un-jovial glare, "which I am certain you are all keen to step up and meet to the best of your newly pardoned--"

"Ahem." A discreet cough from the T&R committee representative.

"--newly _reconciled_ abilities." He went back to beaming and twittering on about the interface between the muggle and wizarding world, the necessity of maintaining an integral worldview in both. Blaise tidied a particularly uneven edge on his fingernail and tried not to think thoughts too murderous.

"Please fill out the forms to the best of your abilities and knowledge," chirped the nattily-dressed witch who circulated the room with a thick wad of paper.

The first test was apparently having a writing implement secreted about one's person, which two of the candidates failed immediately. Weasley shook his head ruefully and chuckled, or something like it that made a wheezing noise. Blaise shuddered.

Theodore had brains, Pansy had sex appeal, Draco talked people into stupefied submission.

Blaise _always_ had a pen.

A number of people had suffered lobotomies as a result.

 

* * *

 

"Exactly who do we work for?"

Blaise stared around the tiny room, numb in horror. He opened the handbook they'd been given on arrival at eight a.m, a time of day that Blaise had never really been acquainted with before. "Er, Obliviator HQ, the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, DMLE, the ITF... who the fuck knows else?"

"And who do we," Theo cast every enlargement charm they knew but the room stayed stubbornly claustrophobic, "complain to about the accommodations?"

The handbook jerked violently in Blaise's hands. YOU ARE LUCKY TO EVEN HAVE A JOB appeared across the front cover.

Blaise threw it at the wall.

BEHAVE YOURSELVES, it flashed before dropping behind a filing cabinet, SPOILT LITTLE UPSTARTS.

Theo sat down heavily, and the chair cushion whined.

"I hate sentient objects," he muttered. "Remind me why we didn't choose exile?"

"You'd last about fifteen seconds in Paphos, you great queer nancy."

"Yes, and you are so macho."

Blaise glared. Theo was already reading their assignment details.

 

* * *

 

Blaise was beginning to think that Theodore secretly enjoyed their ruse as encyclopaedia salesmen. Otherwise he had no explanation for the bright-eyed, confidential demeanour Theo adopted, leaning in to charm the unsuspecting Muggle into admitting them in their homes.

It seemed (oddly, but then they were Muggles, so who knew about their capabilities for logic) that their subjects were actually _less_ circumspect after their encounter with magic--encounters that he and Theo had the tedious task of clearing up after and Obliviating where necessary. But still. He'd never have picked Theo as one for small talk and endless cups of tea.

(It was the tea that did Blaise's head in. Theo obviously had a bladder of dragonhide.)

Theo's knack for the sales pitch did however give Blaise the opportunity to poke around in all manner of Muggle abodes and figure out the intricacies of their dreary existence. Clearly all their technological inventions were pitiful panacea for their lack of magic. Except DVDs. Blaise was enamoured of the whole idea of widescreen television and those nifty chairs where the sound came from behind his head.

"... and you'll receive an update volume every February," Theo balanced the chocolate HobNob daintily between his fingers. He looked up at Blaise, waiting for the nod that meant yes; the mess caused by the ballsed-up Apparition of three drunk witches on a hen night in Dublin was gone now, Theo could Obliviate today's potential Muggle-Wizarding PR disaster, and they could get back in plenty of time for reservations at Bletchleys.

Blaise didn't nod. The television was still on in the background, and it had given him an idea, so he threw a Petrificus at the Muggle and confiscated half of Theodore's biscuits.

 

* * *

 

"Well," said Theodore when Blaise waved a hand to turn off the television. "Just like our," he paused, the word still distasteful for them both, " _jobs_ , only--"

"Better. More exciting. Glamorous, even."

"Also, nice suits."

Blaise looked thoughtfully at Theo. "I love it when you're shallow."

"Contrast is everything." Theo smiled slightly. "Do Muggles know that aliens _actually_ exist?"

"I also love it when you're on the same wavelength," Blaise said, idly toying with one of Theo's buttons.

They spent the rest of the afternoon testing out the sturdiness of Muggle mattresses.

 

* * *

 

"Now _that's_ what I'm talking about."

Theodore grimaced. "Blaise," he said, straightening the lapels on the black jacket, "African-American vernacular English does not become either of us, innit." He looked in the dressing-room mirror, looked back at Blaise with a slanted grin. "Unlike this suit."

"Baby, yo' _fine_." Theo rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. Blaise felt entitled to his moment of smug. "Very well. Sunglasses." He held out the Ray-Bans.

"This is taking things a little too far."

Blaise slipped on the glasses and strolled out of the dressing room. "Whatever you say, T."

 

* * *

 

The Minister of Magic's office was about seventeen times the size of theirs, Blaise calculated. One more thing that would be changing.

"Let me understand you correctly, Mr Zabini--"

"Zed," Blaise interrupted, ignoring Theo's quiet _tch_.

"Whatever," Kingsley Shacklebolt said, frowning at Weasley, who stood by the window with his arms folded in twitchy exasperation. Tormenting him had made Blaise's morning much brighter. "Mr Nott."

Theo leaned forward. "It's not so much that we don't appreciate the necessity of our work for the Ministry--"

"--just that we'd rather someone else do the actual field work." Blaise pushed the letter outlining their demands ( _Requests_ , Theo had said, _Let's do try and be politic_ ) across the Minister's desk. "Ministerial responsiblities would seem to be more suitable. And a vastly better set of accommodations."

Shacklebolt scowled. "Tell me what makes you think this Ministry--or the Muggle governments--know about the existence of extra-terrestrial beings?"

"N.E.W.T. Astronomy project," Blaise said, flicking a piece of dust from his sleeve. "We got an O for Outstanding."

Theo blinked innocently. "Weren't you a Ravenclaw, Minister?"

 

* * *

 

Weasley ushered them out of the Minister's office, muttering quietly about bribery and blackmail and other things that made Blaise feel all warm inside.

"I hope now you've got what you want you'll dress like proper wizards," Weasley said, looking terribly forlorn. Well, that would teach him to try and make post-war examples out of Slytherins.

"Arthur," Blaise said. "Show love to the black suit."

**Author's Note:**

> For many years, my head-canon was that Blaise's family came from Cyprus. Hence the Paphos comment.


End file.
